


you can wear my sweatshirt

by intertwiningwords



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Morning Sex, Riding, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 10:53:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15193232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intertwiningwords/pseuds/intertwiningwords
Summary: hermione looks good in ron's clothes.





	you can wear my sweatshirt

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry for the title..kinda. enjoy!

Although Hermione had a Weasley sweater of her own, there was something very satisfying about wearing Ron’s. It was huge on her, but that only made it warmer and cozier.

A winter morning on laundry day made her pull it on and climb back into bed beside Ron, kissing his shoulders and chest until his eyes fluttered open.

“Wake up,” she whispered.

“I’m awake,” he replied, rubbing his eyes.

She grinned and moved to straddle his hips, and when he fully opened his sleepy eyes he had to gawk at her for a moment. Curls bouncing over her shoulders, wearing nothing but his own sweater, and looking at him with  _ that _ look in her dark eyes.

“You look so good in my clothes,” he said, smirking up at her, reaching out to take her hands.

Hermione smiled right back up at him, pulling the sleeves of his sweater down over her hands and balling it in her fists giddily. It smelled of him so strongly she thought it would never lose that scent.

Ron looked like a model splayed out ready to be photographed by a professional, no, more like   _ painted _ by Da Vinci himself. The warm morning light pouring through the window beside the bed, illuminating every inch of his tan, freckled skin. Blue eyes lidded, a mixture of mischief and lust dancing in them. And that stupid, cocky smirk dancing on his pink lips.

She suddenly felt very stupid sat atop his hips, makeupless and messy hair and his oversized sweater engulfing her frame. She made a move to lay beside him instead when his hands found her hips as if to say, “Stay right there”. It was a  wordless request, or maybe a command, that she followed without question.

And suddenly his perfect model sexiness seemed to fade, and his cheeks were flushing pink, eyes averted towards the striped sheets, bottom lip between his teeth. She almost thought he looked even better when flustered.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, fiddling with the hem of his maroon sweater, still slightly obsessed with the fact that she was wearing it.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he replied almost immediately. “I just...You look, like,  _ really _ pretty right now.”

Now it was Hermione’s turn to flush, a hopeless smile tugging at her lips. “Shut up,” she said, smacking his chest playfully.

“Ouch!” he replied, pouting up at her. “You’re cruel.”

“You knew that from the start,” she replied, raising her eyebrows. “It’s your fault for marrying me.”

“And I don’t regret it at all,” he said.

“Really?” she asked, feeling heat rise in her face again.

“Except for when you make me cook.”

“Oh, now you’re going to get it!” she narrowed her eyes playfully, tickling his bare sides.

“Wait, I was kidding! Mercy!” he cried out through giggles, giving in almost immediately. 

And Hermione couldn’t help but laugh a bit herself at how quickly he gave up, but she relented and let him catch his breath.

“You’re cruel,” he said again.

“You love it,” she replied.

“Of course I do. Kiss me?”

“Well, if you insist.”

Hermione leaned down to connect their lips, her hands cupping his face gently. The mood changed from playful and romantic to passionate in seconds.

Her hands tugged at his hair, clawed at his chest, and grappled for his wrists desperately while he bit at at her neck and pulled on her underwear like he’d die if they didn’t come off soon.

Hermione had read hundreds of books about sex, and had never really liked the idea of having someone else’s penis inside her until she actually tried it; having tried it, there was nothing she didn’t like about the feeling. It definitely seemed a lot less fun on paper.

Her underwear came down around her ankles, and, still straddling him, she lowered herself down on him with a soft moan. She still had on his maroon sweater, and she tried not to think about the fact that Mrs. Weasley had knitted it for him as she pulled the hem up.

“Don’t take it off,” Ron breathed. “As good as you look naked, you look so fucking good in my clothes, ‘Mione.”

She let go of the sweater instantly, letting it fall back down over her stomach, and watched as his freckled face contorted in pleasure as she rode him. He was always very adamant about making sure she felt as good as him, and he held her hips as he searched to hit the spot inside her that made her toes curl and short, panting breaths leave her mouth.

He had her body almost memorized after a year of marriage, so it didn’t take long for him to find it. She let out a small gasp, brown eyes shutting as she gave into the feeling.

Ron’s hands slipped up the sweater to play with her breasts, and Hermione bit down on her lip to muffle the squeak that rose in her throat at the sensation.

“Don’t hide your noises,” Ron said.

“It’s embarrassing!” Hermione replied, holding onto his thighs to steady herself.

“I think they’re beautiful,” he said, pinching her nipples as he said it.

She let out another squeak, this time without muffling them.

“See? You’re adorable.”

“Shut up,” Hermione breathed. “Focus on fucking me, not complimenting me.”

“Yes ma’am.”

It didn’t take very long for them to both be, well,  _ satisfied _ , and Hermione laid down beside him, curls fanning out across the mattress.

“Never take this sweater off,” Ron said, rolling over onto his stomach to bury his face in her neck.

“Well now I’m all sweaty, thanks to you, so I think that’d be quite gross,” she replied with a small laugh, running her fingers through his ginger hair sweetly.

Ron groaned. “True. Wash it and then never take it off.”

She’d be lying if she said it was an accident when she wore it just a few days later, watching the way his cheeks flushed and his eyes scanned her up and down before averting to the floor, as they were in the presence of friends.

It was a very satisfying amount of power to have over him.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated. one click can make a writer's day! :)
> 
> tumblr: intertwiningwords.tumblr.com


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